When Elrond Met Thranduil
by Crawler
Summary: AU, CoT story! Thranduil's growing up at Rivendell with Elrond and Elros as his friends. Elros is leaving. Elrond's still mad. ElrondThranduil, ElrosOC, GilgaladGlorfindel WIP
1. When first they meet

On my other account, I wrote a story about Elrond and Thranduil that was taken down. However, it was about them after the fellowship set off from Rivendell. Elrond was trying to rekindle the relationship between him and Thranduil. In it, Elrond mentioned Thranduil grew up in Rivendell, alongside Elros and himself. Someone asked for a history of their childhood, their adventures and misadventures and so on. Hence, "When Elrond Met Thranduil" was born.

Now, this will be slash, Elrond/Thranduil pairing, later on, and I will have Oropher (Thranduil's father) be a bastard, so if you don't like, don't read. If I make a mistake in names or places or times or events or anything like that, either a) I am fully aware of my mistake and meant to tweak the timeline so it would fit, or b) I have no idea I made a mistake and apologize, but hope you can ghost over it and move on.

Right now, Thranduil appears to be about 6, while the brothers are closer to 13

I don't own them. Darn.

**_When Elrond Met Thranduil_**

Elrond and Elros peered around the columns decorating Gil-galad's study, watching the High King with interest as he talked to the blond stranger.

"That's Oropher, king of Greenwood the Great," Elros hissed to his brother, "At least, I think he is."

Lord Glorfindel, ever watchful, glanced at them, and the young half-elves gulped.  They didn't think anyone had known they were spying.  Glorfindel arched an eyebrow, and the two boys slunk out of the room guiltily.  Glorfindel shook his head slightly before turning back to his king.

"What was King Oropher doing here?" Elrond asked his older brother.  Elros shrugged.

"How should I know?  You were breathing too loud for me to hear what they were saying!"

"Was not!  That was you!"

"I don't breathe through my mouth, so it must have been you!"

"Elros, I swear, it wasn't me!"

"Yes it was, and that's why Glorfindel caught us . . ."

"Aie! No!"

The brothers stopped at this new cry.  Elros lifted his foot from a crushed wooden horse.  "Oh no, I'm sorry!"

The little blond elf who had cried out scooped the broken horse up tenderly, cradling its broken form.  "Shh, Swift One.  Don't cry," he whispered to the toy.

"Touching," Elros whispered into Elrond's pointed ear.  Elrond elbowed his brother and knelt down, holding out his hand.  "May I see it?  Maybe it can be fixed.  My brother did not mean to be an oaf.  It just happens."

Elros scowled.  The little elf sniffed, scrubbing tears from his eyes with one fist as he handed the horse to Elrond.  The neck had broken from the body, but otherwise, the toy seemed fine.  "Can you fix Swift One?" the child asked.

Elrond nodded slowly, standing up.  "Yes, the horse can be fixed.  We'll be right back."  He grabbed Elros' arm and dragged him away.

The brothers sought out Erestor and ran to him, holding the horse like a prized trophy.  "Erestor, can you fix it?"  Erestor was the most skilled in woodworking out of all the elves in Rivendell, and he was always willing to help the young half-elves.  He took the horse carefully from Elrond and examined it.

"Yes, I do believe it can be easily mended."  He pulled a jar and some wax from his robes, sitting on a nearby bench and carefully tending to the toy.  "I haven't seen anything of this high quality in a long time."

"Anything not made by you, you mean," Elros jested.

Erestor smiled and wrapped a rag around the horse's neck.  "Here.  Let it set for at least an hour before you play with it again, and stay out of trouble."

"Thank you Erestor!" the brothers chorused.  "We'll be good!"

Erestor laughed and waved them on their way.

"You must give the horse back to the boy, and apologize.  You broke it."

"Ah, Elrond, you're always so calm and calculating.  I wish I had your sense."  Elros took the horse from Elrond and knelt in front of the child.  "Here, your horse is fixed, but you can't play with it for an hour."

The boy pulled the rag back and examined the break before turning to Elros.  "Thank you!" he whispered.  "Thank you!" Elros blushed and scuffed his foot in the dirt.  "Aww, it was nothing.  I broke it after all, sorry about that."

The boy grinned shyly, gently setting the horse aside and giving it one last pat before searching through his other horses.  He had about a dozen of them, counting the broken one.  "Here, play Raven Wing, and you can play Cloud Runner."  He pressed a horse into each brother's arms and picked up another for himself.  "I'll play Red Jewel."  He galloped the horse across the path, making whinnying sounds under his breath.  Elrond and Elros shrugged, sitting to play with the smaller child.

"Elros, Elrond, I see you've already met Prince Thranduil."  The boys leapt to their feet when they heard Gil-galad address them.  Behind him, Oropher loomed haughtily, scowling at Thranduil over Gil-galad's shoulder.  Thranduil shifted to be partially hidden behind Elrond.

"Indeed we have, milord, and have been playing a rather pleasing game with his horses.  He could tell you their histories for hours, if given the time."  Elrond beamed up at Gil-galad.  Elros pinched his arm.

"Try not to be too obvious in your hero-worshipping, brother of mine!" he whispered.  Elrond stepped on his foot.

Gil-galad smiled.  "I'm glad you two enjoy his company.  War is threatening Greenwood.  King Oropher has asked us to watch over Thranduil here, to keep him out of danger.  He wishes Thranduil to grow up in the ways of elves, but does Lorien is also threatened.  Rivendell is the only safe haven.  Seeing as how you two are the closest in age to him in Rivendell, I ask that you try to be his friends."

The brothers grinned at each other.  "Oh, don't worry!  We will be!"

As Gil-galad and Oropher swept off, Glorfindel stepped up to the brothers.  "I know you have reputations as some of the most troublesome elves ever to grace Rivendell's halls; however, I must ask you _not_ to corrupt Thranduil.  He is a good child, an obedient prince.  He does not need to be turned into a rebellious monster like the two of you."

Elros glanced over his shoulder at Thranduil, who had gone back to his horses.  "Now Glorfindel," he began, his tone sickly sweet.  "We assure you we won't _intentionally_ try to corrupt him, however, if being our friend causes him to adopt some of our ways . . ."

"Well, we're sure you can guess the results," Elrond finished.  "And if that does happen, you can't blame us.  We were only obeying High King Gil-galad."

The brothers finished with devious grins that were never meant to grace elven faces.  Glorfindel scowled.  "Rivendell won't be a safe place for any child to grow up until you two devils have left its halls."

The grins instantly faded and were replaced by crushed expressions.  "Glorfindel, we thought you cared about us!" Elrond whispered.

"Do you really hate us that much?" Elros touched Glorfindel's hand tentatively, huge puppy eyes staring up at the older lord.

Glorfindel groaned and pulled his hand away.  "With luck a traveling group of elf minstrels will come and take you away.  Your acting abilities surpass any we have here."

The brothers hugged Glorfindel.  "We knew you didn't mean it!"  Glorfindel laughed and ruffled their hair before leaving to catch up with Gil-galad.

Good?  Bad?  Ugly?  More?

~Crawler


	2. To dance in the rain

Okay, here's the next part for the one person who reviewed.  Okay, I know I don't get many reviews, but one?  I was kinda hoping for at least three.  Oh well.  Thank you Tenshiamanda for your kind words of encouragement.

Now if I could only find a nice Elrond/Glorfindel story to read. . .

Don't own 'em, but someday I'll own my own characters, and then you'll all be my evil slaves as I dominate the world with . . . uh, you weren't supposed to hear that! ^__^;;;

**_When Elrond Met Thranduil_**

Centuries passed.  Greenwood remained under constant threat from the orcs.  Occasionally Oropher would come to bring Thranduil home, but would always return him to Rivendell before too long.  Elrond and Elros hated when that happened.  Thranduil had started off as a shy child.  He would play with them, and ask them to play with him if they looked interested, but would never speak except the bare minimum required to answer their questions.  It had taken the brothers several years to turn the introverted prince into an exuberant child like elves should be, but every time Oropher took him away, he relapsed back to his quiet state, and it would take time for the brothers to break him out again.  However, they were pleased to note that it took less and less time to release the energetic child Thranduil hid.  Thranduil, being younger, also aged at a faster rate then the older boys.  As he caught up to them in maturity, they found themselves enjoying his presence even more.

"Milord?  Gil-galad?"  Glorfindel climbed into Rivendell's observatory tower.  Gil-galad was resting on a window seat, watching something below.

"Hello Glorfindel.  Care to join me?"

Glorfindel picked his seat carefully; making sure the cushions weren't soaked with rain.  Rivendell had very few glass windows.  Most were left open to the air.  As a result, when there was a downpour such as this, rain occasionally pooled on seats.  "What are you watching?"

Gil-galad gestured.  Thranduil, Elrond, and Elros were dancing in the rain, throwing mud at each other and wrestling in the wet grass.  Thranduil was now 12, the brothers' 15.  "They're so energetic and playful, aren't they?"

"Yes, they are, and despite warnings, they've dragged Thranduil down with them."

"That's not necessarily a bad thing."

"Of course not!  When he first came here, he would hardly open his mouth except to apologize, and even then his voice was often mistaken for the wind, it was so quiet."

"But now, under the wonderful supervision of our monsters, he's blossomed into a wonderful young child."

"He will make a fine ruler when Greenwood is no longer under Oropher's tight fist."

Gil-galad smiled.  "Remember the first rainfall with Thranduil here?  They had to drag him out."

"The poor child had probably been forbidden to _look_ at the rain, much less play in it," Glorfindel noted darkly.

Gil-galad nodded.  "Yes, and Thranduil just stood there, soaking wet and unsure what was expected of him.  Then Elrond hit him with that mudball and he went down with a keening wail."

            "Scared all the elves in Rivendell, he did."

            "Poor Elrond was mortified!  Judging by the look on his face, that utter panic, he thought he had seriously hurt Thranduil!"

            Glorfindel chuckled.  "You never would have guessed that by watching them today!"

Thranduil threw a clump of mud at Elrond and ducked one from Elros.  Elrond slipped while trying to throw one of his own and fell face first into the mud.  Elros held out a hand to help him up, but Elrond only pulled him down.  Thranduil was bent over double, laughing as the brothers struggled to get out of the mud.  His laughter turned into an undignified shriek as the two lunged at him, knocking him into the mud as well.  The three rolled over and over, laughing and gasping as they tickled and wrestled each other.

"Will they never grow up?" Glorfindel asked, more to himself then anyone else.

Gil-galad shrugged.  "Do you truly want them to?  They radiate such purity and innocence.  They fill Rivendell's halls with joy."

"But not peace!" Glorfindel interrupted.

"No, not peace!" Gil-galad laughed.  "But definitely joy.  I would hate for them to grow up and learn the true horrors of the world.  I wish they would never lose their innocence."

"Thranduil will lose his first, even though he is younger."  Glorfindel was somber, watching the young prince cavort with his friends.  "Oropher abuses him, you know that as well as I.  Even with friends such as Elrond and Elros, he will not be able to keep his innocent, wide-eyed view of the world."

Gil-galad sighed as if a great weight was placed on his shoulders.  "I know, Glorfindel, but we have no proof.  Without proof, we are forbidden to do anything to free Thranduil from Oropher's heavy hand."

"The bruises on his face when he comes to us after a stay in Greenwood are proof!  The limp in his step after a visit from Oropher and fear of adults are proof!"  Glorfindel was indignant.  How dare anyone hurt such a sweet child!

"They are not proof enough!  He always has an excuse.  Greenwood is constantly under attack, when he returns, he claims he had a nasty encounter with goblins, and was lucky to be alive.  When he limps, he claims a horse trod on his foot accidentally, or he smashed his knee into something.  His fear of adults could just be a phobia.  We have no way to prove Oropher truly does this, even though we know it in our hearts."

Glorfindel watched Elrond help Thranduil up before rubbing a gob of mud into the prince's dripping hair.  "Elrond could probably tell us of more injuries we don't know about.  Always after an encounter with Oropher, Thranduil flees to Elrond.  Elrond is gifted in the healing arts, and has been trained well.  He probably sees the full extent of Oropher's wrath upon Thranduil, and hides it before we can see it."

Gil-galad nodded.  "But Elrond is a good friend.  He would not say anything that would risk Thranduil getting into more trouble.  If Oropher ever learned we knew because Elrond told us, Thranduil would receive the brunt of his anger.  Elrond would never wish that upon his friend, so he keeps silent."

"I hate being helpless," Glorfindel whispered.  "Thranduil hurts, and we are powerless."

Gil-galad rested his hand upon Glorfindel's knee.  "Not completely helpless.  We do help Thranduil, by providing him with a shelter where he can grow without fear of Oropher.  We cannot shelter him constantly, but we do our best, and I'm sure he is grateful for a safe haven."

"We also can't forget what Thranduil does for Elrond and Elros," Glorfindel said.

"Aye.  All the new children here, most refugees from Lorien, are wary of the two.  Elrond and Elros are half-elven with bad reputations.  What decent child would wish to be their friend?"

"One who's gotten to know them," Glorfindel answered.  "However, no one takes the time to get to know them.  They're half-breeds, they must be bad.  It's good for them to have a friend other than each other."  Gil-galad nodded his agreement as Glorfindel continued.  "I wonder what they'll choose, mortal or immortal.  Right now they're both immortal, but once they've reached their majority, they must decide."

"They will choose what their hearts tell them to, even if it tears them apart."

"What do you think they'll choose?"

Gil-galad frowned down at the two.  "Elrond will choose immortality, I believe.  Not only does he hold a great love for Rivendell and the elven ways, but the one his heart is starting to sing for is immortal."

"And Elros?"

Gil-galad shook his head after a moment's deliberation.  "Elros' future is cloudy and uncertain.  He seems to love men and elves the same.  Right now, I would say he would choose immortality, to be with Elrond, but his heart hasn't found someone worthy of his praise yet.  If he falls for a mortal, he will choose the mortal life, even if Elrond does not."

"A difference in their choices would tear them apart!" Glorfindel cried.

"I don't think so," Gil-galad comforted his guardian.  "If they choose differently, it would only bring them closer together.  They would truly cherish the precious time they had left together."

"And when the one dies?"

"The other will mourn, but will live on; knowing that would be what was expected of him.  Neither would wish the other's death on their account."

"Maybe you're right."

"Maybe we don't need to worry.  Glorfindel, would you care to join me?"

"In what, milord?"

Gil-galad stood and offered his hand to his friend with a mischievous smile.  "I have the sudden urge to dance in the rain."

Did this make sense?

~Crawler


	3. It's called a waterfall

                     In this next part, there's a rude comment made towards Elros and Gil-galad, as well as six OC elves, Deleb, Lavan, Dolen, Norn, Coth, and Torog.  Norn is the ringleader of his little gang, the other five are his groupies.  They're all around Elros' age.

                     Speaking of ages, some people are confused.  I keep saying Elros and Elrond appear to be the same age, so people wonder if I mean to say Elladan and Elrohir, the twins.  I don't.  Elros and Elrond aren't twins, Elros is about 50 yrs older then Elrond, in this story.  However, 50 yrs to an elf isn't enough to make a noticeable difference in how old they appear.  Elrond and Elros are 16ish, Thranduil's between 14 and 15.

I don't own them, you don't own them, but if you do, drop me a line!  I'd love to chat with you!

**_When Elrond Met Thranduil_**

                     "Elrond, don't do it!  You could fall in!"  Thranduil tried to hold Elrond back but the older elf shook him off impatiently.

                     "Thranduil, trust me, I won't fall in.  This is a matter of honor, I must do it."

                     "But Elrond!"

                     Elrond ignored his friend's pleas and leapt lightly onto the slender tree that had fallen during a windstorm.  "Thranduil, I will be fine."

                     "Listen to the prince, half-elf!  He certainly is wiser then you!"  Norn sneered at Elrond openly.  Norn was a striking elf, in a cold way.  He was also two centuries older then Elros and hated the half-breeds that the king adored.  Elrond ignored Norn as Elros growled at him.  This was all Norn's fault.

Flashback

                     Elrond, Elros, and Thranduil were running around the gardens of Rivendell, picking up all the branches that were blown down in the recent windstorm, laughing and joking with each other.  Norn and his cronies sauntered up.  After watching the trio with a look of disgust on his face, Norn called out to them.

                     "Oi!  Cleanup crew!  Big branch down near the river!  Gil-galad wishes you take care of that as well!"

                     Elrond stuck his tongue out at Norn.  Elros snubbed his nose at him, and Thranduil snickered softly at his friends' antics.  Nevertheless, the three quickly finished their work in the gardens and headed for the river where Norn and five other young elves were waiting.

                     The 'big branch' turned out to be a small tree that had been uprooted and thrown over the river not too far before one of Rivendell's many waterfalls.  Norn was skipping across it, from one side to the other.  When the trio showed up, he leapt off and bowed with a flourish as his cronies applauded.

                     "See, half-elves, that's what a _real_ elf can do.  Anyone with human blood in them would slip and fall for certain."

                     Elros looked at the tree, then back at Norn.  "That's supposed to be difficult?" he asked, his voice incredulous.  "Why, even Thranduil can cross that!"

                     "Prince Thranduil is a true pure-blooded elf," another elf, Lavan, pointed out.  "That type of thing comes naturally to us."

                     Norn silenced Lavan with a wave of his hand.  "How about this.  If Elrond can cross the tree and back, we'll take care of it and leave you alone for the rest of the day.  If he can't, not only does it prove half-elves are a weaker breed, but you also must follow us around and do our bidding for the entire week, except for Prince Thranduil.  He has no part in this.  What do you say?"

                     "Frankly, I think we're getting the worse part of the bargain," Elros stated.

                     "However," Elrond interjected, "crossing the tree will be no difficult task.  We'll win, so it doesn't matter what will happen if we lose."

                     Norn rolled his eyes.  "Half-elves with their arrogance of men," he spat.  "You disgust me."

                     Elrond stepped close to Norn.  "If I cross and back, you'll admit that half-elves are every bit as good as pure elves, and you'll stop harassing us."

                     Norn sighed dramatically.  "Very well, if I must."  He shook Elrond's hand rather reluctantly and gestured to the tree.

End Flashback

                     Thranduil begged and pleaded, trying to get Elrond to reconsider.  Although he loved spending time with the brothers, he also cherished the time he spent alone, buried amongst Rivendell's scrolls and texts.  He knew that a windstorm such as the one there was last night was usually followed by a flooding of the rivers, for much rain would have fallen upstream.  The wave of water would be arriving at any moment, and if Elrond was on the tree at the time, he could be swept off.  However, the tell-tale rumble that signaled the imminent arrival of the flood could not be heard.

                     Elrond skipped across the log as Norn had done, cavorting his way across the river.  Elros watched smugly as Thranduil covered his eyes.  Was that the water-rumble he heard?

                     Elrond was halfway across the log on his way back when the wave came into view.  Panicked, Elrond sprinted for the shore, but the water was quicker.  Thranduil screamed as the log was swept out and Elrond disappeared from view.

                     All the elves ran to the swollen river bank, fighting to see into the swirling rapids.  The placid river had turned into a frothing monster, and Elrond was no where to be seen.  Elros turned on Norn with a snarl.  Norn backed away, palms raised and a frantic expression on his face.  "I didn't know that would happen, honest!  I never meant for this flood water!  I just thought he'd slip off!  I swear, this was an accident!"

                     "Look!"  Another of Norn's friends, Torog, pointed to a rock just at the top of the waterfall.  Elrond was clinging to it with all his strength, trying to pull himself out of the river.

                     Elros abandoned Norn to run to the river's edge again, pacing like a caged beast.  "Elrond!"

                     Thranduil looked around, searching for a branch, a rope, a vine, anything he could throw to Elrond to help him back.

                     Elrond gasped as the water slammed into him, no longer trying to pull himself onto the rock but just trying to keep his face above water.  Vaguely, he could hear someone calling his name, but he couldn't make out who.  The water was so cold, it numbed him to the bone.  A log from upstream slammed into his hands clenched around the rock and he cried out, releasing his grip.  All the elves screamed with him as he toppled over the waterfall.

                     Gil-galad, Glorfindel, and several other elves arrived at the scene in time to pull Torog, Lavan, Coth, Dolen, and Deleb off of Elros, and Elros off of Norn.  The lower they got in the pile, the more beaten the elves were.  Thranduil alone was unhurt.

                     "What is going on here?"  Gil-galad glared at the unfortuanate youngsters.  Elros leapt at Norn again, barely restrained by Gil-galad.

                     "He started all this!  He killed Elrond!"

                     A murmur rippled through the older elves.  Gil-galad looked at Elros curiously.  "Killed Elrond?  Elaborate please."

                     "He dared Elrond to run across the tree that fell across the river, just when the floodwaters came that swept him over the waterfall!"

                     Gil-galad turned his piercing gaze to Norn, then looked pointedly at Glorfindel.  "Take Lindor and Erestor.  Find Elrond."  Glorfindel nodded and released Elros.  For his part, Elros didn't try to leap at Norn again.  "Norn?  Does Elros speak the truth?"

                     Norn stared defiantly at Gil-galad.  "No.  Elrond chose to cross the tree himself.  None of this was my doing.  I do not wish him dead."

                     Gil-galad turned to Thranduil.  "What do you have to say?  You've often been the voice of reason before."

                     Thranduil toyed with one of his blond braids.  "Sir, both lie, but not completely.  Elros is correct in saying that Norn dared Elrond to cross the tree, however, Norn is also correct in saying he did not wish Elrond dead, at least not with this dare.  I believe Norn wished Elrond to be humiliated, perhaps, but not dead.  None of them knew of the approaching floodwaters either.  There was no warning until it was too late."

                     Gil-galad smiled.  "Thank you, Thranduil, for speaking truly.  I believe you."

                     Coth spat at Gil-galad's feet.  "Yah, you always side with the half-breeds!  Why?  Wanting to get on their good sides now so when they're all grown up you can get in their beds?"

                     All present stared at Coth with shock on their faces.

                     "That, that was just _low_," Norn said matter-of-factly.

                     Anger flashed in Gil-galad's eyes, yet his voice remained smooth and calm.  "Elros, for five minutes, the rest of us will be oblivious to whatever you do."

                     Elros cracked his knuckles visciously.  "I won't even need three!"

                     True to his word, Gil-galad did not allow anyone to save Coth from Elros' sound thrashing.  In fact, it was Elrond who rescued the youth.  Glorfindel, Lindor, and Erestor returned, Elrond in Glorfindel's arms.  Elros left Coth immediately and was at Glorfindel's side.  "Is he dead?"

                     Glorfindel smiled and shook his head.  "No, Elros, Elrond is not dead, but quite water-logged.  He swallowed most of the river."  Elrond stirred and blinked at Elros, smiling sheepishly.  "Indeed, it is quite hard to kill this one.  Maybe it has to do with his half-elven nature, as you too are difficult to hurt."

                     Gil-galad winked at Glorfindel over Elros' head and spread his arms.  "Since no one was killed, and Coth has been suitably punished, in my opinion," Coth whimpered, "why don't we return to Rivendell?  No more playing around near the river until the flood has passed."

Uh, yeah, stupid little scene that's been stuck in my head for a while.

~Crawler


	4. Ow! I mean, OW!

In this chapter, you get to meet Oropher, and see what Gil-galad and Glorfindel were talking about in the second chapter.  Elrond drugs Thranduil, but it's all good, Thrandy really needed it.  More years had passed.  The brothers appear 17, Thranduil is 16ish.

Don't own em

E/T pairing takes effect this chapter.

Child abuse also occurs.

Nasty Oropher, we hates him, we do!

**_When Elrond Met Thranduil_**

Thranduil collapsed laughing between Elrond and Elros.  All three were covered in dirt, twigs, and crushed leaves from their romp in the woods.  Elrond squinted at the setting sun.

            "What time did Gil-galad say supper was?"

            "Seven sharp.  He made it _very_ clear he didn't want us late this time."

            Elrond cursed and leapt to his feet.  "It's nearly seven now!"

            Thranduil tried to shake his clothes off.  "We'll never have time to clean and change!" he wailed.

            "Never fear," Elros grinned.  "We'll just run through a waterfall.  I'm sure Gil-galad would prefer us wet and on time rather then dirty or late."

            Gil-galad winced and groaned as the three young elves squished into the dining hall behind him.  Turning around, he prayed the boys looked better then they sounded.  No such luck.

            "Boys, the reason I told you to be on time and _emphasized_ it was because Oropher would be dining with us tonight."

            Thranduil's eyes widened in fear and Elros and Elrond glanced at him, worried.

            "Oropher's coming _here_!?  Now!?"

            "Yes.  I'll hold him off as long as possible, but you'll have ten minutes _max_ to make yourselves presentable.  Hurry!"

            Only three puddles were left to mark the boys' presence.  Glorfindel touched Gil-galad's shoulder.  "Oropher is here."

            Gil-galad groaned.  He hated diversionary tactics.  Never was any good at them.

            Thranduil was shooed into his room.  Elros and Elrond were everywhere at once, stripping him down, toweling him off, redressing him, dragging a brush through his tangled hair, and pulling his hair into a tight, thick braid.

            "Done!" they cried at the same time, shoving him back out the door.  "Hurry!  We'll meet you there!  Don't wait for us!"

            Glorfindel and Gil-galad were both struggling to keep Oropher occupied when Thranduil slid in.  Oropher beckoned for him.

            "Father?"

            Oropher tucked a stray lock behind Thranduil's pointed ear and frowned.  "Your hair is soaking."

            "Oh, I, uh . . ." Thranduil hoped his father couldn't hear his heart racing in fear.

            "I wish to talk to you in my room after the meal.  Please _try_ to be prompt."

            Thranduil nodded.  Oropher turned back to Gil-galad and Thranduil took his seat next to Elrond.

            The brothers sported wet hair in a thick braid like Thranduil's.  Their skin was red from being rubbed vigorously with towels and their clothes were rumpled and twisted.  Under the table, Thranduil could feel Elrond trying to switch his shoes to the right feet.

            "Everything okay?" Elros asked quietly.

            "If you don't talk to me, maybe he won't kill me," Thranduil hissed back, not looking up from his plate.

            "Father?  You wished to see me?" Thranduil stood in the doorway uneasily.  Oropher was nursing a glass of wine.  _How much has he had already?_

            "Yes.  Thranduil, your hair was wet and your clothes looked hastily put on."  Oropher's word were slurred and Thranduil winced.  _Well, that answers my question.  Too much._  "I noticed those half-breed sluts were in a similar condition.  What were the three of you doing prior to dinner?  Fooling around in the bath together?"

            "Father, we never . . ."

            "Thranduil, I want to know what happened."

            "Nothing happened!  We were taking a walk and lost track of the time!  We had to prepare for supper quickly!"

            "I SAID I WANTED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED!" Oropher roared.  "DON'T YOU DARE LIE TO ME, THRANDUIL OROPHERION!"

            "I'm not lying!  I'm telling the truth!"

            Oropher flung his wineglass at Thranduil, who ducked.  IT shattered, spraying him with crystal shards and wine.  Thranduil stood carefully, trying not to cut himself on the crystal.  Oropher advanced on him.

            "I'll ask you one more time.  What happened?"

            "Nothing!  I  . . ." Thranduil's words were cut off as hands wrapped themselves around his throat.

            Thranduil managed to limp back to his room and lock the door.  Someone threw his bed curtains back from within and he stumbled backwards with a cry of surprise and pain.  Elros leapt to his side instantly.

            "Thranduil, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you!  Are you alright?  Oh Thranduil, I swear, I never meant to get you in trouble, nor did Elrond!  We really didn't know, we're so sorry!"

            Thranduil whimpered and clung to Elros.  "Where is Elrond?" he finally managed to whisper.

            "He's at the tree.  Think you can walk, or should I carry you?"

            Thranduil tried to put weight on his injured ankle and cried out from the pain.  Elros helped Thranduil onto his back and leapt from the window.

            Thranduil smiled in relief when they reached the large willow tree that served as so much in their lives.  The long branches brushed the ground, creating a living tent.  This was their shelter.  It was Elros' make out spot and Thranduil's reading nook.  It was Elrond's infirmary and the perfect size for a sparring rink.  The majestic old tree for picnics in the hot summer days and private meetings of the EET Prank Files group.  More secrets had been whispered into its knotholes then could be counted.

            Currently the tree sheltered Elrond and his healer's bag.  Elros set Thranduil down by his brother before climbing the tree to be a lookout.

            Elrond's fingers ghosted over Thranduil's battered face before trailing down his bruised neck.  "Take off your shirt."  Thranduil raised an arm, but it fell back limply to his side.  He didn't have the strength to do anything.  Elrond frowned and leaned forward.  His nimble fingers undid the clasps and slid the shirt from Thranduil's shoulders.  He hissed at the extent of the damage before helping Thranduil sit up so he could check his back.

            "How can any father do this to his child?"

            "Easily," Thranduil mumbled into Elrond's shoulder.  " 'M tired."

            "Don't sleep!" Elrond cried, pulling Thranduil away from him.  "You can't sleep with those head injuries!  Wait until I'm done!"  Thranduil nodded.  "Now, how bad is it below the waist?"

            "Just my leg," Thranduil whispered.  "Lower right."

            Elrond got to work, relocating Thranduil's shoulder, binding his twisted ankle, cleaning and bandaging his many wounds, rubbing ointment into his bruises, and generally getting him high on pain-killing herbs.

            Thranduil rested his head against Elrond's shoulder again as Elrond rubbed the bruise ointment into his back.  "Mm, feels nice. . ." he purred.

            Elrond turned to look at the golden head pillowed against him.  "The ointment?"

            "Your hands."  Thranduil turned slightly to meet Elrond's amused gaze.  "Nice hands."

            Elrond noticed their lips were only a few inches apart.  He wondered what would happen if that gap was closed.  He decided to find out and leaned closer to Thranduil.

            _I'm loopy!_ Thranduil giggled inwardly.  _Elrond isn't really going to kiss me!  It's just a figment of my distorted image of realimmph.  Hmm, I got a really active imagination!  This feels real!_

            Elrond wrapped his arms around Thranduil and pulled him fully into his lap.  He held Thranduil as he deepened the kiss.  Thranduil moaned and wrapped his arms around Elrond's neck, parting his lips.  If this was just a very realistic figment of his distorted image of reality, then he would make the best of it.  If he wasn't, he'd wait to figure out the logic of it when he didn't see pink monkeys standing behind Elrond.

            Elros peered from between the branches and smiled.  "It's about time they got together!" he whispered to himself.  He leapt out of the tree lightly and tugged them apart.  "Hate to break it up, lovebirds, really, I do, you two are so hot together," Elrond hit him, "but Oropher's coming and I don't think he'd be pleased with me tending to his son.  Elros, get in the tree!  We have to help Thranduil up!"

            "Who's there?  I hear voices!"

            "So do I!" Thranduil giggled.  Elros clapped his hand over Thranduil's mouth.

            "Elrond, how much of that stuff did you give him?"

            "A double dose!  He needed it!"

            Elros pushed Thranduil against the trunk.  "Stay!"

            Elrond knelt and pretended to be looking for more herbs for his bag when Oropher walked in.  "So it's you, half-breed," he drawled.

            Elros cringed.  "He's drunk!"  Thranduil wiggled and nearly fell out of the tree.  Elros held him tightly.

            "Hello, Your Majesty," Elrond said politely, glancing up at Oropher.  Oropher slapped him.  Elros tensed.  Elrond stood slowly, cupping his injured cheek.  "You're Majesty?  Why did you . . . "

            Oropher slammed Elrond against the tree.  Above him, Elros did the same to Thranduil to pin him.

            "You little slut!  You and that brother of yours!  Rotten to the core!  How dare you infect Thranduil with your vile ways!  It's bad enough he's become a disrespectful little rebel, but now you've lured him into your bed too!  But it's not just you, is it?  OH no, you and your brother must do everything together.  He's just another of your playthings, isn't he?"

            "Why do you care?" Elrond spat against the tree.  "Are you jealous because he actually _likes_ us, while he runs from you, knowing you'll hurt him?"

            Oropher shoved Elrond harder against the tree, pinning his hands together and kicking his feet apart.  Elros was torn between keeping Thranduil in the tree and leaping to his brother's defense.

            "Are you scared of me?" Oropher asked.

            "No," Elrond replied defiantly.  Oropher dropped him.

            "One day, you will be."

            "I hope I'm dead before then!"

            Oropher kicked Elrond hard in the ribs before slipping into the night.  Thranduil fell from the tree.  Elros dropped more gracefully.  "Elrond, are you okay?" he asked.

            Elrond sat up stiffly and nodded.  "A few bruises and scratches, not to mention a couple cracked ribs.  I'll be fine, and now we have an explanation for Thranduil's face.  We got in a fight because I was worried about your latest girlfriend and Thranduil thought I shouldn't be panicking.  I got out of control and took it out on him, but we're friends again."

            Elros picked Thranduil up carefully.  "Sounds good to me.  I'll take him back to his room and leave him a note.  You take care of yourself and get back to your own room.  You both need sleep."

            Elrond smiled up at Elros.  "Yes mother!"

Tenshiamanda, you wrote Mirkwood Prank Files, right?  I'm thinking of writing a companion piece to this story entitled "The Mixed-Up Prank Files of EET."  Would you mind if I used that title which is similar to yours?

~Crawler


	5. Elros is a morning person

I've noticed that I never post the next chapter of this story until I have the chapter after it written. Hmm. Unusual quirk I must have picked up somewhere.

Don't own em. E/T mentioned in this part.

Anyone else picking up on Glorfindel/Gil-galad? I am too, even though it's completely unintentional.

**_When Elrond Met Thranduil_**

Glorfindel quietly opened the door to Elrond's room and slipped in. He frowned; the bed seemed to have one too many lumps in it. Setting his candle on the small bedside table, he eased the covers back carefully.

Elrond muttered something and tightened his arms around Thranduil possessively. Glorfindel blinked, astonished. He knew Elrond cared for Thranduil, and vice-versa, but never knew it had gotten to this point already! Looking around at the clothes discarded haphazardly around him, Glorfindel shook his head. He really should have seen it, the way those two were always looking at each other and sneaking off to be alone.

Glorfindel brushed Elrond's hair away from his face, then pinched the tip of the pointed ear hard. Elrond yelped and sat up, rubbing his injured ear. "Glorfindel! What did you do that for?" he hissed, trying not to wake Thranduil.

Glorfindel smirked. "Gil-galad needs to talk to you and Elros."

"Now? We're sleeping!"

"I could see that. Go, Elrond, it has to do with the group of men who will be visiting."

"Couldn't he wait until morning?"

Glorfindel threw Elrond's dressing robe at him. "If it could wait, he wouldn't have said it was urgent, now would he?"

"Mm, Elrond? What's going on?" Thranduil stirred and pressed his face into Elrond's lap, wrapping his arms around the older elf's waist. "You okay?"

Elrond kissed Thranduil's head. "Yes, Thranduil, everything's okay. I'm okay. Gil-galad just needs to talk to me, that's all. Go back to bed."

"Mm, okay. Night Elrond." Thranduil shifted so he wasn't clinging to Elrond anymore and instead clung to the pillow.

"Good-night Thranduil."

Glorfindel picked up his candle and held open the door. "After you. Elros is already with Gil-galad in his study." Elrond stuck out his tongue at the blond elf, tied his sash, and strode out the door. Glorfindel just sighed and followed.

"So, what's so important you needed to call us out of bed in the middle of the night?" Elrond threw himself into one of Gil-galad's overstuffed armchairs, a pout on his face. Elros chucked a paper ball at him.

"Gilly just got this from those inconsiderate men. Read."

Elrond managed to uncrumple the ball without tearing it.

_Dear High-King Gil-galad of Rivendell_

"Care to correct them on your title? It should be. . ."

Elros thwapped Elrond on the head with a rolled up map. "We all know you're not your perkiest in the morning. Keep reading."

Elrond grabbed the map before it descended on his head again. "In my defense, oh brother I love so much, it's not morning yet and I was rudely awakened by an adult blond elf who dragged me away from a warm bed occupied by a younger blond elf. If you even _touch_ me I will maul you."

Elros laughed and tugged the map away. "My my, you certainly are chipper! What a pleasant change!"

Elrond bared his teeth and snarled at Elros. Glorfindel rubbed his temples. "Oh Gil-galad, I see why you got them at such a great bargain. Two for the price of one. Next time, go for quantity over quality, _please_!"

Elrond huffed and turned back to the letter.

_Dear High-King Gil-galad of Rivendell,_

_ We are terribly sorry for sending this at such a late date but are unused to using such odd messengers as birds to deliver messages. You wished to be informed of our arrival date. Well, we hope to arrive tomorrow morning, around nine. We are all eager to see Rivendell, the legendary home of the elves. I hope the tales have done justice to it._

_ Sincerely,_

_ Lord Keladron di'Peritan ti'Destrea_

"What's with his name? It sounds like he can't make up his mind!" Elrond threw the letter onto Gil-galad's desk.

Elros shook his head. "My sentiments exactly. Alright, Gilly, we've all read the letter. Why did you want us here?"

Gil-galad gazed at Elros calmly. "If it wasn't so early, I'd tell you to stop calling me Gilly. Now, as you read, the men are arriving tomorrow morning. Earlier, they had asked for some guides, at least in the beginning of their stay. Guides as in elves they could feel free to question and talk to without worrying about offending anyone."

"You want us to be their guides?" Elros asked, glancing at Elrond. "In the morning? I'm not sure that's such a great idea. . ."

"Thranduil may help you as well, but seeing as how you are only half-elves, not pure blooded elves, the men may find it easier to talk to you, knowing you are a bit more like them then we are." Gil-galad sighed, seeing the sadness in the brothers' eyes. No matter how hard they tried, they were always different. They didn't fully belong in either world, and knew it. Gil-galad walked over to them and drew them both into a hug. "I'm sorry, I should have said it differently," he whispered into their ears. "But that was the truth. They will feel better knowing you understand them better then I do."

Elrond leaned against Gil-galad's shoulder and Elros hugged him back tentatively. "Gilly, you do love us, right? Even after everything we do?"

Gil-galad smiled. "Of course I love you, you know that. You two are like my sons. I can't help but love you, even when you dye Glorfindel's hair all the colors of the rainbow!"

Elrond smiled weakly. "We haven't done that in a while."

"You should. Dying Glorfindel's hair cured him of the typical vainness all blond elves have. It's good for him, really it is!"

Glorfindel smacked Gil-galad. "You don't need to encourage them!"

Gil-galad smiled and untangled himself from the brothers. "So, do you two think you can be the guides, or should I find someone else?"

"We can do it!" Elros chirped.

"Alright. Back to bed, you two. Long day tomorrow." As the brothers rushed off, Gil-galad turned to Glorfindel. "A younger blond elf occupying his bed? Thranduil!?"

Originally, Elros was going to break out in song, but this chapter was getting a bit long, so he'll have to wait. Next chapter will probably be even longer though. His song's getting long too, three verses in Sindarin. It's a good thing he's a bad songwriter. I can't write good songs to save my life.

~Crawler


	6. O bain na he thîr!

Well, this chapter was fun to write. Like I said last chapter, Elros bursts out in song! Now, he's a bad song-writer, the way I am, so please be nice. It wasn't easy.

All translations for elvish are nearby in parenthesis, or what I meant them to say. For example, when Elrond says "Iarwin nana," which literally translates to "Oldest mother," I said he said "Great-grandmother," due to the incomplete dictionary I was using.

For the elvish words, I went to the Sindarin Dictionary Project, http://www.jrrvf.com/~hisweloke/sindar/, and downloaded the DragonFlame program.

Don't own them! New pairing starts to surface, Elros/OC

Please give Gwyddia a chance, it's known that Elros takes a mortal wife, but no one knows anything about her. Gwyddia is just my idea of that person he deemed good enough.

**_When Elrond Met Thranduil_**

As Gil-galad had asked, Elrond and Elros were bundled up and waiting for the visiting men to arrive. Thranduil hadn't joined them, making him the smartest of the three. Winter had fallen over Rivendell recently, but it wasn't until last night that the snow actually came. Several feet of snow blanketed the land. Elrond and Elros stomped about on the road, clapping their hands together and rubbing their ears. Despite their heaving outer clothing, they had forgotten how cold it could get. Thranduil had helped them bundle up and had pushed them out the door, laughing.

Elros scooped up a handful of snow and smiled, watching the flakes fall between his fingers. He had forgotten how cold it was, but he had also forgotten how much fun snow was. It was like mud, only cleaner . . .

Elrond didn't notice Elros fling a snowball at him. The snow caught the younger elf in the face, the only place bare skin showed. Elrond let out a wail as the snow melted down his neck, sending rivulets of icy water over his chest. Elros was laughing too hard to dodge the snowball that came flying back in revenge.

Lord Keladron di'Peritan ti'Destrea was quite taken aback when he led his entourage up the road to find two adolescents duking it out in an old-fashioned snowball fight. Keladron scowled and gestured for his guards to get the attention of the boys so they could step aside.

"Hey! You there! Get out of the road!"

The boys froze and looked at the guards flanking the imposing man. It was almost comical the way their eyes widened in surprise and panic as they took in the scene. Several coaches and dozens of horses filled the road. Keladron rode at the head with his four guards flanking him. Many more people walked beside the coaches or rode on top. Keladron sat up straighter on his horse, scowling down at the children who dared obstruct his journey.

The boys looked at each other slowly, eyes wide and color draining from their faces. Suddenly, in a flurry of movement, they were dusting the snow off their clothes, shaking it out of their hair, straightening their garments, smoothing their hair down, and offering their hands, standing at attention like soldiers.

"We are sorry, Sir, for not hearing you approach. We were, uh, busy." The one on the left spoke slowly with a thick accent. Despite that, his voice was light and musical.

"Move!" a guard barked impatiently.

The boys bowed and stepped aside, falling into stride next to Keladron as his men started moving again.

"Lord Keladron di'Peritan ti'Destrea of Gondor, I presume?" the one to his right said. This one also spoke with a thick accent and measured tongue, or maybe was the same one that spoke before. The two were impossible to tell apart. "We are sorry for our earlier display, merely reveling in the first snow of the season. I am Elrond of Rivendell, and am to be one of your guides during your stay with us. My elder brother, Elros," he gestured to the other boy, "is your other guide. Feel free to come with us if you ever need anything."

Keladron was speechless. These two impertinent _children_ had been assigned the important role as guides to him and his people? "Are you truly elves?" he asked, looking from one to the other. "You act like the troublemakers on our streets back home, and they are most certainly men."

Elrond looked away and Elros hung his head. "My lord, this is a rather, uh, touchy subject for us. We are not elves, not pure-blooded elves at least. My brother and I are rare half-elves, neither fully man nor elf. Our king, Gil-galad, believed we were the best for these positions due to the impurity of our blood."

Percivul, Keladron's aide, chuckled. "Which half is impure, man or elf?"

Elros grinned up at him. "I do not believe it would be wise to answer that, now would it?" Percivul laughed, a deep hearty laugh. Elros joined in, and Elrond permitted himself a smile.

Keladron and his party were welcomed by a host of elves who peeled away wet, snowy garments and boots, replacing them with soft robes and delicate slippers. Keladron watched as a small blond elf stripped the extra layers away from his guides. The blond elf caught him staring and stared back, unabashedly. Keladron curled his lip in a sneer, the blond elf sneered back. Keladron frowned, so did the elf. Keladron realized the elf was copying him and snarled. The elf snarled back, stuck out his tongue, and crossed his eyes. Keladron was not amused.

The elf helping Keladron was a tall blond, the only other blond elf he'd seen besides the rude youngster. Keladron cleared his throat and the elf looked at him, amusement dancing in his features. "Yes, Lord Keladron?" The elf's accent was not as thick as the children and his voice was even more melodic, if that was possible.

Keladron nodded over at the young blond. "That elf, is he your son?"

The older elf glanced at the child in question and laughed. "Thankfully, no. He is Prince Thranduil, visiting from the forest kingdom of Greenwood the Great. He is a dear friend of Elros and Elrond. They have turned him into a force to be reckoned with."

"A force to be reckoned with or not, he should be taught some manners."

Thranduil chose that moment to glide over to Keladron. "Lord Keladron di'Peritan ti'Destrea of Gondor, welcome to Rivendell! I hope you enjoy your stay here as much as I do! May I say, sir, it is an honor to meet a human held in such high regard by his peers. May I have the honor of showing you to your room? I would love to hear more about Gondor and the ways of men."

Keladron's elf, as he had started thinking of the pretty older blond, smiled and nodded his agreement. "I do think that would be a good idea. Thranduil, why don't you escort all the men to their rooms? Elros can take the women, and Elrond can be in charge of the children."

"Now wait just one minute. I don't want my daughter in the hands of some hormone-driven, maniacal. . ."

"I assure you, Lord Keladron, your daughter will be escorted to her rooms with the utmost dignity and respect that is demanded of her position. She is in safe hands with Elros, he knows better then to force himself upon anyone." The elf picked up Keladron's coats and fixed him with a penetrating glare. "Do not insult his honor while you are under this roof. He is held in the highest respect of being treated as a son of High-King Gil-galad himself. It would not bode well for you to cut him down."

Elros smiled at Keladron, a smug smirk, and gripped Keladron's daughter's arm firmly. "Come, Lady, your rooms are this way!"

Thranduil appeared behind Keladron's elbow, a nasty grin on his face. "If you will follow me, Lord Keladron. . ."

Keladron frowned. Whatever he had been hoping to see at Rivendell, impertinent elflings were not it.

Elros was having a wonderful time escorting Lady Gwyddia di'Peritan ti'Destrea and her four ladies-in-waiting to their shared room. The young women were beautiful and intelligent. They loved Elros' accent and were eager to learn about elves in general and Elros in specific.

Elros was almost disappointed when they arrived at the large room. Almost. Watching the human girls flit around excitedly, cooing over the elven trinkets, was enough to put a smile back on his face.

Rosalyn, Gwyddia's primary lady-in-waiting, moved to the thick curtains taking up one side of the room. "Elros? What is behind these heavy draperies?"

"I wouldn't open those if I were you," Elros warned. "Those cover the windows. Normally, they wouldn't be there, but with the cold of winter, they were put up to keep the room warm. If you bundle up and slip out, you would be treated to a wonderful view of the valley, but it's not recommended."

Gwyddia placed a hand mirror down and smiled at Elros. "Thank you, Elros, that will be all for now."

Elros bowed respectively, his smile never once faltering. "Dinner is served promptly at seven. Someone will come to fetch you until you learn your way around Rivendell. Be ready at least ten minutes beforehand." With one last flirtatious grin, Elros turned and left, holding his head high.

As soon as he closed the door behind him, Elros collapsed against it. "He na _bain_!" he breathed, images of Gwyddia dancing in his head. (She is _beautiful_!)

On the other side, Gwyddia collapsed onto her bed giggling. "Oh my, he's so handsome! Did you see his smile?"

Rosalyn sat next to her lady. "The way his eyes sparkled!"

"Oh, and his laughter!"

"His voice!"

"That accent!" all the women chorused together, before collapsing in a fit of giggles. Gwyddia sighed.

"Alas, but he is an elf. Why would he ever look at any of us in a way more then just friendship. Why would he ever look at us in friendship? He is so much higher then we!"

The giggles faded into a round of sighs, then the girls started giggling again, comparing what they thought were his best features.

Before dinner, Elros had been smitten with Gwyddia. After dinner, he was head-over-heels in love. She was unlike any girl he'd ever seen before, human or elvish! She reminded him a bit of Thranduil, meek and obedient to those who demand it of her, but impishly mischievous underneath her faked submission. She had beautiful dark hair that fell over her shoulders in relaxed ringlets and a smooth, alabaster face. Her bright blue eyes were unlike any Elrond had seen before. Only Glorfindel and Thranduil had blue eyes in Rivendell, but Glorfindel's was a deep midnight blue, and Thranduil's was sky blue. Gwyddia's were pale blue, with a hint of green. They reminded Elros of the sea.

Elrond was brushing Thranduil's hair in front of the mirror that night, talking softly to him about nothing important, when Elros bounced in, as was common. Elros collapsed onto Elrond's bed, admiring a glass rose and singing to himself.

_Ai Gwyddia! Ai Tinúviel!_

_O bain na he thîr!_

_Ten síla sui ithil!_

_He lam nesta nín __ind_

_A he lalaith echad nín ethirinc._

Elrond bit his lip and Thranduil tried his hardest not to laugh. Elros ignored them and continued.

_Bain sell, melui brennil_

_Nín __ind__ harna an he_

_An he lebad o lav nín dôl_

_An he hin o cen nín garn_

_Ai Gwyddia! Ai Tinúviel!_

A snort of laughter escaped Thranduil and Elrond sat down heavily, biting his fist to keep some measure of composure. Elros spared them a lofty glare and started a new verse.

_Gwyddia, bain pen,_

_He nîf garo na maenas na maedgwaith_

_He rhaw na cadwor_

_A he laws na moe_

_Nín meleth an he na gwaur!_

As Elros sang the third verse, Thranduil curled up in the chair, rocking with laughter. Elrond gave up on trying to hide his mirth and fell over. Elros stopped singing and stood over them, pouting.

"Man na gelir?" he asked. (What is so funny?)

"I laer!" Thranduil choked out. "I laer!" (The song! The song!)

Elros scowled. "Alha na ú," he muttered. (No it wasn't)

Elrond nodded. "Tinúviel na mín iarwin nana! Na Gwyddia mín iarwin nana?" (Tinúviel [Luthien] was our great-grandmother! Is Gwyddia our great-grandmother?)

"Sui bain," Elros huffed. (As beautiful.)

"Na bain far an can he iarwin nana?" Elrond asked. (Is beauty enough to call her great-grandmother?)

Elros smacked Elrond with the brush. "Aewdôl! He na sui bain sui Tinúviel, ú Tinúviel he!" (Birdbrain, fool, idiot! She is as beautiful as Tinúviel, not Tinúviel herself!)

Elrond and Thranduil glanced at each other, then burst out singing, "O bain na he thîr!"

Elros threw up his hands in disgust and left the room, muttering "Alestel! Alestel!" (Hopeless! Hopeless!)

Well, I tried something new with the speaking. Here's Elros' song, first how he meant it to sound, then how it literally is.

Oh Gwyddia! Oh Tinuviel!

How beautiful is your face!

It shines like the moon!

Your voice soothes my heart

And your laughter makes me smile

Fair maid, sweet lady

My heart aches for you

For your fingers to stroke my brow

For your eyes to see my own.

Oh Gwyddia! Oh Tinuviel!

Gwyddia, beautiful one,

Your image has been sculpted by artists

Your body is flawless

And your hair is so soft

My love for you is undeserved!

Literal translation:

Oh Gwyddia! Oh Tinuviel!

How beautiful be she face!

It shine like moon!

She echoeing voices heal my heart

And she laughter made my mouth twitch.

Fair maid, sweet lady

My heart to wound for she

For she finger to lick my head

For she eye to see my own

Oh Gwyddia! Oh Tinuviel!

Gwyddia, beautiful one,

She face have to be craft by skilled people

She body be shapely

And she hair ringlets to be soft

My love for she to be dirty!

What I have learned from this chapter:

1) It is difficult to write songs.

2) It's even harder to write songs in another language.

3) It's almost impossible to write in another language when the best dictionary has words like "viscous" and "inflorescence" rather then words like ache, artist, smile. . .

4) Making the elves speak Sindarin was therefore nearly impossible due to the incompleteness of the dictionary. 

Ah, but how fun this chapter was. Next chapter though, I regret to say, the elves _will_ not speak in Sindarin. They will speak in italics when speaking Sindarin. It's just so much easier to write, and I can make them say so much more.

~Crawler

P.S.  Would anyone mind a Gil-galad/Glorfindel more prominent?


	7. Rest does not always include sleep

Sindarin is now just italics, it made it so much easier, and they had such a larger vocabulary. This chapter seems pointless to me, but I liked it anyway. Starts out with a Gil-galad/Glorfindel scene that ends with a cutscene before it gets explicit, sorry, but there is an NC-17 ban and all that. After that there's another scene with Thranduil, Gwyddia, and Rosalyn. Rosalyn was originally just a faceless name, but she's starting to develop a character now.

Who knows, she may even change the entire course of the story . . . ooh, plot bunny!

            Some things to mention to reviewers.

            Meri Malfoy, yes, I do know where Elros and Elrond grew up at, just realized it in fact, then read your review.  This is getting a definite AU note now, thanks for bringing it to my attention in case I forgot it like I usually do!

            Almare, sorry the chapters seemed choppy, I was writing them that way, just little scenes.  Hopefully these next few chapters will flow a lot smoother, they're all continuations of the same part of time.

            BlueberryPancakes, it's so wonderful to see over ten reviews at one time, especially from the same person.  Thanks for reviewing most of my stories!

            And of course, Tenshiamanda, thanks for everything, especially the pointing out of the subconscious hints of Gil-galad/Glorfindel.  Really helps!  

I forgot to say this before.  Elrond, Elros, Gwyddia and Rosalyn are all appearing to be 18.  Thranduil is hovering around 17, and the rest of Gwyddia's ladies are in the range between 16 and 26.

**_When Elrond Met Thranduil_**

Gil-galad glided into his room with his back straight and his head held high, the very picture of elven nobility. Once his door was closed, however, he let himself fall onto his bed, pulling his coronet off and running his hand through his hair.

Glorfindel materialized out of the shadows. "_You are tired, my lord._"

Gil-galad jumped, his hand touching his chest where Vilya hung on a chain. "_Glorfindel__! You startled me!_"

"_Oh, now I have fulfilled a lifelong goal of mine, to catch an elf off his guard,_" Glorfindel said sarcastically, picking up Gil-galad's coronet and placing it on it's cushion. "_Honestly, my lord, you should be more wary in these days of growing darkness_."

"_With you as my seneschal, why should I be wary in my own room?_" Gil-galad asked, closing his eyes. He was not up to bantering with Glorfindel, as much as he enjoyed it.

The bed dipped slightly as Glorfindel sat behind him and started brushing Gil-galad's dark hair, pulling out the braids gently. Gil-galad didn't protest. "_You _are_ tired,_" Glorfindel commented, a touch of concern in his voice. "_What did you do that wore you out?_"

"_Besides listen to that idiotic human praise himself? I also listened to his minstrels praise him and then listened to everyone around him praise him again. Never before have I met a more self-centered, egotistical, annoying little. . . brat!_"

Glorfindel gathered Gil-galad's hair in his hands and started braiding it into one thick plait. "_Even worse then Norn?_" he asked softly.

"_Much worse! At least with Norn, I can get him to talk about what is relevant. Keladron came here so we could work out an alliance between men and elves, but all he's done so far is praise himself. I would rather deal with a thousand fights between Norn and Elros then deal with Keladron again!_"

Glorfindel winced, knowing how Gil-galad hated when Elros fought, especially with Norn. Originally, it had been hoped that the two would become friends and strengthen the bonds between Rivendell and Lothlorien, however, that would obviously not occur. Glorfindel draped Gil-galad's braid over his shoulder and started massaging his back. Gil-galad hissed in pleasure and arched into the touch. "_You are tense, my lord. You should rest._"

"_Rest. . ._" Gil-galad repeated, practically purring as Glorfindel skillfully massaged his knotted muscles.

"_Laying__ down is generally a good start,_" Glorfindel whispered into Gil-galad's ear, guiding him onto the bed face down. Gil-galad whispered something into the pillow as Glorfindel slipped the robes off his shoulders and down to his waist. The blond elf then straddled his king and continued to run his hands along his back, although it was more of a caress then a massage now.

Gil-galad moaned as Glorfindel's lips followed his hands. "_Rest my lord_," Glorfindel purred, leaning over Gil-galad and resting his head on the pillow next to the king's. "_You need your sleep_."

Gil-galad reached behind him and grabbed Glorfindel's slender waist. With a growl, he threw the blond elf onto the bed beside him and pinned him. It was Glorfindel's turn to moan as Gil-galad claimed his lips in a fierce kiss.

"_How,_" Gil-galad panted, covering Glorfindel's face with soft kisses, "_can I sleep with you doing this to me?_"

Glorfindel kissed Gil-galad's hand lightly. "_Rest does not always include sleep, my lord. Activities that allow you to release stress can be called resting as well, can they not?_" Gil-galad stared at him, completely entranced by the sultry smile playing across his seneschal's lips.

"_You _are_ wicked, you do know that, right?_"

Gwyddia and Rosalyn crept through the dark hallways of Rivendell. It was the middle of the night, and they didn't dare light a candle in case they were caught. The two had eaten very little at dinner, having been too preoccupied with staring dreamily at Elros and his brother (who was almost every bit as dreamy as Elros!). Now they were regretting that decision, trying to find their way to the kitchens.

Gwyddia's stomach growled and she blushed, rubbing it with one hand. "Oh, Rosalyn, I'm so hungry! Can't we ask Elros where the kitchens are? Just imagine, not only finding food, but also getting to see Elros sleep mussed . . ."

As Gwyddia trailed off, Rosalyn laughed softly. "Oh Lady, you are smitten with him, aren't you?"

"Smitten with who?"

Both girls gasped as Thranduil stepped out of the shadows behind them. He was robed in a simple white sleeping gown with the first several buttons undone. With his hair spilling loose over his shoulders and his soft inner glow bathing him in light, he looked like some denizen of Valinor. He definitely wasn't Elros; too soft and ethereal. Too heavenly.

"Smitten with Lord Elros, Your Highness," Rosalyn answered, smiling prettily at him. He may be too pretty for Gwyddia, but certainly not for her!

Thranduil smiled, whispering something that sounded like "_O bain na he thîr!_" whatever that meant. "Please, just call me Thranduil. It is difficult enough understanding your language without needing to worry about tiresome titles. Now, Gwyddia is in love with Elros? Is this true?"

Gwyddia blushed and stammered something unintelligible, treading on Rosalyn's foot.

"Of course it is, Thranduil! You should have heard her talking before supper! It was Elros this and Elros that and. . ."

"And we were too busy to eat much during supper. Thranduil, do you know the ways to the kitchens? I'm afraid we're lost."

"Yes, I do. I was going there myself. Come, follow me."

In the kitchens Thranduil found some bread and cheese for the girls. Rosalyn poked around while Gwyddia sat at a table, examining the strangely weaved baskets that sat upon it.

"Thranduil, is there anything you want?"

Thranduil glanced over where Rosalyn was and nodded. "Yes, that green jar. Does it have cream in it? It does? Good. Can you bring that to me?"

Rosalyn did so, and watched in amusement as Thranduil set it on a tray along with a variety of fruits and berries. After a moment of deliberation, he selected several creamy brown balls with a delicious smell and placed those on the tray too.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" Rosalyn asked. Thranduil looked blankly at her.

"Girlfriend?"

"Lover?" she amended. "Beloved?"

"Ah, lover and beloved," Thranduil answered with a smile. "He is dear to me."

"He?" Rosalyn asked teasingly. "I do hope it's not Elros you love! Gwyddia would be so crushed!"

"Not Elros," Thranduil smiled again, "but close." He picked up the tray and turned to leave. "Enjoy your snack, ladies. I hope you can make your way back to your rooms, you are just down this hall."

"Thranduil, wait!" The elf half-turned with an amused look on his face at Gwyddia's call. "If we help you with your grasp of the common tongue, which is already excellent, but if we help you learn more, will you tell us everything you know about Elros?"

Thranduil's grin was wicked. "But of course!"

~Crawler

P.S. pub46.ezboard.com/binfinitybase Scroll down until you get to the forum called SpiderFanatic, about the middle of the page, and keep your eyes peeled for Interlude if you want that G/G scene expanded on. ~_^


	8. Tis Spring, and love is in the air

Sorry about the wait, I got caught up in other things.  _Interlude_ isn't up yet either, but I'm sure you can guess what happened by reading this.  Sindarin is in italics, the Common Tongue is just plain text.

I don't like Keladron.

Nor do I own LOTR, but someday I will, just waiting for that letter saying it's all mine. . .~disappears into fantasy world~

            Elrond/Thranduil, Elros/Gwyddia, and OFC, Glorfindel/Gil-galad, Keladron/Glorfindel, completely one-sided, Norn/Deleb mentioned.

**_When Elrond Met Thranduil_**

Gil-galad stormed into Keladron's room, furious at the man.  It was bad enough that Keladron had requested to speak with him in the middle of the night, but Glorfindel had been in the middle of helping him 'rest.'  He was not amused to say the least.  "You summoned me, Keladron?"  No titles of respect, just a biting tone that would have sent a lesser man or elf cowering in fear.

Keladron was no lesser man, just a stupider one.  He ignored the fact that Gil-galad was angry, dismissing it as mere sexual frustration, judging from the mussed state the elven lord was in.  "About Glorfindel . . ."

"What about Glorfindel?"  Gil-galad frowned.  Why would this man be thinking about _his_ seneschal?

"Do you think he'd look better in white silk or blue?"  Keladron closed his eyes, picturing Glorfindel splayed out before him on some cushions, begging for Keladron to. . .

"Excuse me?!"

Keladron's eyes flew open.  Did he say that out loud?  "Do you think he'd be able to return to Gondor with my entourage?  Having an elf with his influence at my courts would help strengthen the bonds between men and elves, don't you think?"

Gil-galad frowned.  He _had_ been thinking of sending an elf with Keladron for that purpose, but now he wasn't so sure.  If he did, it wouldn't be Glorfindel.  "Perhaps, but Glorfindel would be unable to come."  Gil-galad would pretend he hadn't heard the silk comment.  "He is too valuable here, responsible for much of Rivendell's security.  Perhaps a diplomat like Lindor or Erestor would be better suited for your court. . ."

Keladron frowned.  If he couldn't have Glorfindel, he didn't want anyone.  "Oh, well, I'll think about it.  Good night Gil-galad."

"Good night, Keladron."  Gil-galad managed to leave the room without throttling Keladron for even possibly thinking of Glorfindel dressed in silks.

Back in Gil-galad's room, Glorfindel was sprawled on the bed.  "_What did he want, my lord?_"

Gil-galad shrugged his robe off and slipped into Glorfindel's arms.  "_He wanted you, at his feet, wearing nothing more then a leash in his hand._"

Glorfindel's eyes widened.  "_No!  Keladron actually. . ._"

Gil-galad pulled Glorfindel closer and shook his head.  "_He didn't actually say that, no, but he did ask if you'd look better in white or blue silk, and wished that you would return to Gondor with him.  Judging from his expressions and physical reactions, I drew my own conclusions._"

Glorfindel shuddered.  "_That man repulses me, and I hardly know him!_"

"_Just be wary around him; never let your guard down._"

Winter over Rivendell flew by quickly.  Gil-galad spent his hours either trying to persuade Keladron to give some thought to the matter of an alliance or trying to hide from the man's prattling self-praise.  Glorfindel became harder and harder to find as Keladron became more and more enthusiastic in his pursuit of the warrior.

Elrond, Elros, and Thranduil spent their days much more enjoyably.  They often romped in the snow or caused mischief inside.  Gwyddia and Rosalyn grew more comfortable around them and often joined in.  Rosalyn had a clever mind for tricks, as it turned out.  The sight of Norn sputtering in anger as he arrived for dinner covered in feathers and sap would always be a highlight of their days together.

As spring came, the five grew even closer.  Rosalyn and Gwyddia were coaxed out of their heavy, ungainly dresses and into lighter breeches and tunics.  The elves taught them how to ride horses in the elvish style, astride and barebacked.  Gwyddia was a natural, but Rosalyn took her share of falls before she picked up on it.  Elros and Gwyddia fell more in love with each other, and Elros' poetry improved greatly, at least in Gwyddia's eyes.  He would never tell her he just took existing songs and poems and tweaked them.  She didn't need to know he didn't want his brother laughing at him again.

Rosalyn watched the relationships blooming around her and sighed, heavy-hearted.  She was glad her lady had found love with Elros, and did agree that Elrond and Thranduil made such a sweet couple, but wished for love of her own.  She longed to have someone whisper songs in her ear like Elros did with Gwyddia, or for someone she could just look at entranced for hours, like Elrond and Thranduil.  She dreamed of having someone who could see her as an equal, someone to jest with, like Gil-galad and Glorfindel, or someone to go on long sunset walks with her like Norn and his girlfriend Deleb did.

"Why so melancholy, Rosy?" Thranduil asked, setting his hand on her shoulder one night.  "It's spring!  You should be happy!"

Rosalyn smiled.  Thranduil's accent had faded drastically ever since Gwyddia and she started tutoring him.  He spoke the common tongue as well as Glorfindel did, and to thank them for their hard work he had started teaching them Sindarin as well.  Sindarin was no easy language, but here Rosalyn was better then Gwyddia.  "_It _is_ spring, Thranduil, and that is the problem.  Love is in the air, but not for me._"

"_No love for Rosy?  Why not?  Your speech is flawless, smooth and elegant.  Many an elf fall for another on their voice alone!  Just speak, and they will be drawn to you!_"          

Rosalyn smacked Thranduil lightly.  "_Stop teasing!  I'm being serious!_  Besides, it's difficult to talk in Sindarin all the time."

"I'm sorry for teasing you, Rosy.  I never would mean to offend you."

Rosy sighed and leaned back, resting her head against Thranduil's chest.  "What's it like to be in love?  With Elrond?"

Thranduil's smile was bittersweet.  "It is both a blessing and a curse.  Elrond is amazing.  Every time I'm near him, he makes me feel like I'm the only person in the world who matters and my troubles are never too big or too small for him to care about.  I feel like I could never do anything that would make him upset.  I feel complete near him, as if he was a part of me that I lost long ago.  Yet I am the prince of Greenwood.  As eldest and only child of my father, I must have an heir for when I ascend to the throne, and I should be able to give Greenwood a queen.  Elrond can neither be a queen nor give me a child, and one day he will be Lord of Rivendell, stepping up when Gil-galad is gone.  Neither of us will be able to leave our duties for very long, so we will rarely see each other.  Knowing that I must one day give up his love is the greatest curse of all."

"So elves have love problems too.  Do you ever have arranged marriages?"

"Aye, we do.  In fact, as we speak, my father seeks to arrange a marriage with me and the lovely lady Faelrin."

"Faelrin?  That ditzy blonde from Lorien?"

"I know of no other."  Thranduil sat beside Rosalyn, looking quite forlorn.  "As it is, it's unusual that I have not already been wed.  Although I am still considered young for an elf, most royal heirs are wed before they turn one thousand.  I'm near two thousand five hundred."

Rosalyn hugged Thranduil.  "I'm sure everything will work out fine for you.  You're a wonderful person.  Your father can't possibly be so cruel as to force someone upon you when you love another."

"You don't know my father."  Thranduil stated, stiffening.  "You don't understand what he does – takes pleasure in doing."

"Thranduil?"

"I do not wish to speak on this subject any longer."  Thranduil's voice had gotten hard and cold, scaring Rosalyn.

"I'm sorry Thranduil, I didn't mean to upset you."

Thranduil relaxed, looking at Rosalyn apologetically.  "No, I'm sorry, Rosy.  I shouldn't have gotten upset.  It's, well, _my father is not a pleasant person.  He delights in the pain of others, especially . . ._"

"_Especially you,_" Rosalyn finished, and Thranduil nodded, staring at his feet.  "_Thranduil . . ._"

"Don't apologize.  It's not your fault, and I don't want your pity."  Thranduil got to his feet abruptly.  "Good day, Lady Rosalyn," he said before stalking off.

Rosalyn stared after him for a moment, wondering how badly she offended him.  It took a while before she noticed his seat had been occupied by another, one who was staring at her.  She turned to see Elrond gazing at her with an unidentifiable expression.

"Don't mind him.  He isn't offended, nor is he mad at you.  He just _really_ doesn't like to talk about his father.  Saying Oropher is cruel is like saying Elros likes Gwyddia.  It's true, but such an understatement."

Rosalyn shook her head slowly.  "Coming up on six months I've lived here, yet I still learn something new each day.  I never knew elves had such problems as child abuse like men do.  I always saw them as fair beings, lifted above the problems and cruelties men have.  I'm sad to see I was wrong."

Elrond shrugged.  "We are not as different as we seem, once you get to know us."

            Glorfindel was brushing Gil-galad's hair in Gil-galad's room when there was a knock at the door.  Setting the brush down, Glorfindel answered it, finding Elros standing outside, looking nervous.

            "_Elros?  Come in.  How can we help you?_"  Gil-galad patted the bed next to him.  Elros climbed up at curled up against the older elf like he used to when he was little.  Glorfindel resumed brushing Gil-galad's hair.       

            "_Gilly?  How do I choose to be mortal?_"

            Glorfindel stopped brushing and stared at Elros.  Gil-galad closed his eyes, having always hoped this day would never come.  "_Mortal, Elros?  Are you sure you wish to become mortal?_"

            "_I'm sure.  I love Gwyddia, Gilly, and I can't imagine living without her.  This isn't an infatuation, I know what that feels like, and it's not this.  I want to be by Gwyddia for her life, growing old with her, not staying young and watching as age kills her slowly.  I want to bind myself to her.  I want to be mortal._"

            "_That may not be such a wise idea, Elros,_" Glorfindel said softly.  "_You love Gwyddia, yes, but what about the others you love?  How would Elrond feel?  Would you choose Gwyddia over your brother?_"

            "_Elrond will understand.  He knows what it's like to be in love.  He won't begrudge me my happiness._"

            "_But Elros, Glorfindel does have a point.  You've only known Gwyddia for five months.  Maybe you should talk to Rosalyn, Elrond, and Thranduil first.  See how they feel.  Also talk to Gwyddia, see if she's willing to bind herself to you.  This isn't a decision to be made lightly.  What if it's the wrong one?_"

            Elros scowled.  "_You're just trying to not get me to bind myself to Gwyddia because neither of you can stand her father.  Well, she's not anything like her father!  Not at all!_"

            "_Elros, we're just. . ._"

            Elros pushed himself away from Gil-galad and leapt off the bed.  "_Shut up!  If you won't tell me how to become mortal, I'll figure it out myself!_"  He ran from the room.

"_Elros, no!_"

~Crawler


	9. Mortality and Gondolin

Short chapter, one big scene, basically.  Mortality has a bitter price, as Elros discovers.  The truth about the fall of Gondolin is revealed, and Keladron makes a move on Glorfindel.

            Elrond does have a lot of tragic events in his life.  Not only does he lose his parents, but he also loses the sons of Feanor, who carry him and Elros off in a raid and treat them like their own children.  He then loses Elros to mortality and Gil-galad in the last alliance.  To make things worse, Arwen chooses to have the same fate as Elros, and goes off to die with Aragorn, who Elrond had come to regard as a son.  And, if you go with this story, Elrond also loses Thranduil to duty.  After all, according to popular belief, Thranduil and Elrond aren't the best of friends during the War of the Ring.

            Poor Elrond.

**_When Elrond Met Thranduil_**

            Elros dashed into the library, slamming the massive door and shoving the deadbolt in place to keep it closed.  He ran from door to door, locking each one and shoving the occupants of the library out.  He couldn't risk _anyone_ stopping him.  This was something he had to do, but Glorfindel and Gil-galad wouldn't let him.

            Speaking of Glorfindel and Gil-galad, he heard them slam into the first door he locked, and then heard Glorfindel's curses moments later as the door didn't even budge.  Elros' eyes widened.  Apparently, Glorfindel learned a lot in Mandos, since Elros, well versed in crude and obscene sayings in ten languages, didn't hear one he recognized.

            Glorfindel and Gil-galad weren't stupid.  It would only take a moment before they started working on the hinges to get the door off.  Elros shoved a few tables against the door and pushed some huge armchairs up against those, hoping to slow the two older elves.  He then turned to the daunting task at hand.  He needed to find a tome that would tell him how to become mortal.

            "_Surely _someone_ has been a half-elf and became mortal in the past few millennia!  There has to be an instruction manual somewhere around here!_"  Elros ran his fingers along the spines of the old books, reading quickly.  "_Return of the Noldor, no, Encyclopedia of Fleas, ew, why do we have that?  Prayers and Rituals to the Valor, maybe, Different Shades of Violet . . . what?  There are different shades?_"

            After pulling out as many books as he could quickly find that looked promising, Elros climbed into the loft of the library and started reading.  If a book proved useless, he would simply let it drop to the ground, not caring about the mess or damages.  The elves seemed to have given up on the hinges, seeing as how even with them removed, the door wasn't budging, and were now simply trying to break their way in using force.  Elros stopped reading long enough to watch as the door splintered under the onslaught.  "_By Eru, what are they using?_"  At this rate, they'd be in shortly, and Elros hadn't even found a good book yet!

            Just when he thought it was over, and he'd been caught, Elros was rescued by the most unlikely of people.  Keladron, after drinking much of the elves' strongest wine, saw the object of his desires trying to batter his way through the library doors.  Gil-galad had left, trying to hunt down Elrond.  He hoped the younger brother would be able to talk some sense into Elros.

            Glorfindel was alone and totally focused on getting Elros out of the library.  He didn't hear Keladron come up.  It wasn't until Keladron spun him around and pinned him to the door with a kiss did Glorfindel even realize he had company.  Cursing his inattentiveness, he slammed his knee into Keladron's groin.  The man crumpled, squealing in pain.  Glorfindel spat on Keladron's body and wiped his mouth before turning back to the door.  This time, however, he stayed alert, in case anyone else tried to sneak up on him.

            After a pause in the attack on the door, progress resumed, but at a slower pace.  Elros, on the other hand, dove into the last book with a passion, breezing through the pages and praying this one would help him.

            It did.  On page 165, there was a section titled "_Invocation to make a request of the Valar_" that was completely dedicated to asking the Valar for a favor.  A favor was what Elros needed.  Leaping out of the loft, he gathered the necessary items.  Luckily there weren't that many.  He needed something sharp, so he found a knife used to trim pens.  A butter dish, with the butter scraped out, provided a shallow bowl to catch the blood he needed, and the fireplace held the necessary fire.

            Elros used tongues to hold the small blade in the fire until it became red hot.  Maneuvering it carefully, he made a fist and bit his lip, then cut into his wrist.  The pain was intense, but not completely unbearable, as the blood dripped from the wound into the dish.  Careful not to utter a sound other than the prayer, Elros began whispering the incantation that would ask for the Valars' aid.

            "_A Elbereth Gilthoniel o menel palan-diriel, le nallon sí di-nguruthos! A tiro nin, Fanuilos!  A Elbereth Gilthoniel silivren penna míriel o menel aglar elenath!  Na-chaered palan-díriel o galadhremmin ennorath, Fanuilos le linnathon nef aear, sí nef aearon!_"  He wasn't sure what the words meant, being written in an ancient tongue, but he felt them heavy on his tongue.  Drawing forth a stick from the fire, he touched the flame to the blood in the dish.  "_I wish to be mortal!_" he cried, finishing the ceremony.  The blood burst into flame, and Elros, drew back with a gasp.  According the book, that was a sign the Valar had heard and would fulfill the wish.

            The door swung opened, when Elros realized his mistake.  It opened outward, his blockade was completely useless.  The bolt served as a makeshift hinge as Elrond pulled it open from the wrong side.  Glorfindel, on the other side, looked a bit sheepish, having forgotten the door opened outwards too.  Elrond sighed and shook his head.  Adults needed help with _everything_.

            Gil-galad climbed over the furniture barrier and knelt beside Elros, taking in the charred dish, the blade resting partially in the fire, and the gash in his wrist.  "_Elros,_" he whispered, closing his eyes.  "_please tell me you did not use the invocation to make a request of the Valar._"

            "_If you had just told me, I wouldn't have,_" Elros whispered, hanging his head.

            "_You mean you wouldn't have made all this mess,_" Glorfindel amended.  "_Instead, you would have snuck in here late one night and performed it anyway._"

            "_Did I mess up?_" Elros asked, looking up at the older elf.  "_I just wanted to be mortal, but will this invocation make a mess of things?_"

            Gil-galad opened his eyes, and drew Elros to him.  The young elf sounded so lost and forlorn, he needed a hug.  "_The invocation has only been performed several times in history.  Each time it was performed successfully, a disaster always followed the wish granting, usually costing many lives._"

            Elros buried his face in Gil-galad's shoulder.  "_So I did mess up, and messed up pretty badly.  Now people are going to die because of me._"

            "_What type of disaster?_" Elrond asked, curious.  "_Could it be prevented?_"

            Gil-galad glanced up at Glorfindel, who shuddered.  A haunted look was in his eyes.  "_The last time the invocation was used,_" Gil-galad started hesitantly, "_Gondolin fell victim to the Balrogs and the evil that surrounded them._"

            "_What was the wish?_" Elros asked.

            "_A foolish maiden wished for her beauty to surpass that of Lady Galadriel,_" Glorfindel whispered.  "_She was beautiful for five minutes, then killed by the Balrogs._"

            "_What have I done?!_" Elros moaned.

For a little while here, I think this story is going to focus more on what troubles Elros is going to face with his new mortality, and how Gwyddia will react.

~Crawler

Oh, translation of Elros' invocation.

O Elbereth Star-kindler, from heaven gazing afar, to thee I cry now in the shadow of death. O look towards me, Everwhite! O Elbereth Starkindler, white-glittering, sparkling like jewels, the glory of the starry host slants down. Having gazed far away from the tree-woven lands of Middle-earth, to thee, Everwhite, I will sing, on this side of the Sea, 

here on this side of the Ocean

The first part, O Elbereth . . . look towards me, Everwhite! is what Sam cried in RotK, in Cirith Ungol.  The rest is an Elven hymn.  I thought it was fitting, and I didn't even butcher the grammer!  ~skips with glee~


	10. Setting off

Here's the next part.  Sorry, no Interlude yet, but Lord and King is up at the ezboard I mentioned earlier, if you want to read the story that started this all.

Italics are Sindarin, plain is Common Tongue.

**_When Elrond Met Thranduil_**

            "_We need to hurry,_" Gil-galad said, rising to his feet and drawing Elros up with him.  "_Elrond, get the women and children someplace safe.  Glorfindel, tell the guards to be on the lookout for any sort of trouble.  Elros, you come with me.  We should get the humans out of Rivendell.  The disaster will strike here, at least they will be unharmed if we act quickly.  Wait, actually, on second thought, Elros, go pack your things._"

            "_You're sending me away?_" Elros cried, horrified.

            "_No, I'm sending you with the humans.  Keladron requested an elf return to Gondor with him, and this way you can remain close to Gwyddia.  It would please you, wouldn't it?_"

            "_After all,_" Elrond added, struggling to hide the pain in his voice by covering it with anger.  "_Rivendell is a dwelling place for the _immortals_.  Living amongst humans would suit you better, wouldn't it?_"

            "_Elrond!_" Gil-galad scolded.  Elrond ran from the room, into Thranduil.  He brushed past the golden elf and fled.

            Thranduil poked his head in and looked at the three elves remaining.  "_What happened here?  Why is Elrond so upset?_"

            "_I'm mortal now,_" Elros whispered.  "_He's mad at me._"

            Thranduil's eyes widened.  "_Mortal?  Elros, you're joking, right?_"  Elros shook his head sadly and pushed past Thranduil, headed towards his room.  Thranduil looked up at Gil-galad, who nodded solemnly.  He bit his lip before deciding to chase after Elrond.

            "Hello Elros . . . are you going somewhere?"  Gwyddia stood in Elros' doorway, watching him shove clothes in a bag.  Elros looked up at her, tears shimmering in his eyes.  "Are you alright, Elros?  What's wrong?"

            "_Elrond hates me, Gil-galad's disappointed with me, Thranduil's siding with Elrond, I bet, Glorfindel's remembering his horrible past clearly because of me, I brought a disaster upon Rivendell, I'm fully mortal now, and Gil-galad's kicking me out.  That's what's wrong._"  Elros' voice quavered and broke as he choked out the words, burying his head in his hands.  Gwyddia sat beside him, pulling him into her arms.

            "Oh Elros, I only caught a few names in that, but I can tell you're distressed.  I wish I could help you, but I couldn't understand what you said.  Please tell me!"

            Elros sighed and swiped at his eyes with one hand.  "I'm going to Gondor with you and the other humans as soon as possible and all the elves here hate me.  That's what's wrong."

            Gwyddia frowned.  "Forgive me if I'm wrong, but isn't that a good thing?  Not all the elves hating you, but you coming back to Gondor with me?  I mean, just the other day, you were saying you were dreading the day I'd leave you.  Now you're dreading the day we don't get separated?"

            "It's not something I can explain," Elros snapped, pushing her away.  He instantly regretted his actions and rubbed his face.  "I'm sorry, Gwyddia, this has just been a _really_ horrible, stressful day.  I didn't mean to yell at you."

            "That's alright," Gwyddia assured him.  "Do you need help packing?  I can help, if you want me to."

            Thranduil knocked on the open door.  "_Elrond won't talk to me either.  Do you need any help?_"

            Elros glared at Thranduil.  "_Not from you!  Go bother someone else!  Leave me alone!_"

            "_Elros?_"  Elros flung a book at Thranduil.  The younger elf dodged it and fled.  Why was Elros so mad at him?

            "Elros," Gwyddia gently chided him.  "that wasn't very nice."

            "_Like I care right now._  Please go away, Gwyddia, I wish to be alone."

            Gwyddia pouted, but she left as Elros asked.  As she closed the door behind her, she looked over her shoulder.  Elros was slumped over; his face buried in his hands.  His shoulders shook with silent sobs.  Gwyddia frowned and went off in search of someone who could explain what happened.

            Before Elros knew it, he was on a horse leaving for Gondor with Gwyddia.  Most of Rivendell had gathered to send them off.  Many elves had tearful smiles, knowing that they may never see their little troublemaker again.  Elrond was absent from the farewell party but Thranduil had come.  He stood beside Glorfindel, tearfully waving to Elros.

            "_Good-bye!_  Good luck!  Farewell!  _Have a safe journey!  _We'll miss you!"

            Elros waved back, struggling not to cry.  For as long as he could remember, Rivendell had been his home.  He was still young, for an elf, and didn't feel ready to give up everything he'd ever known.

            As the humans left Rivendell, Elros caught a glimpse of movement from the lookout.  Elrond stood, silhouetted against the windows, scowling down at his brother.  When Elros turned to him, Elrond turned away.  Elros hung his head, knowing very well how long Elrond could carry a grudge.  He may never live to receive Elrond's forgiveness.

            Rosalyn rode up beside Elros on her new pony, a gift from the elves.  She rested her hand on his shoulder.  "_Are you alright?_" she whispered.

            He shook his head.  "_I'm not, but I won't be for a while, and it's nothing you can do anything about.  Just leave me be._"

            Rosalyn sighed.  It was going to be a long trip home.

It's short, but I was feeling really bad about the delay!  Sorry!  Next chapter hopefully will be up sooner!

~Crawler


	11. Coming home

Happy birthday to me! Here's your present, keeping in faith with the traditions of the Hobbits of the Shire! So sorry for the delay!

**_When Elrond Met Thranduil_**

Elros sat in the mud of one of the many gardens within Minas Anor's walls. He ignored the cold rain that fell on him, ignored the warm tears that spilled down his cheeks, and ignored the tree behind him that tried to reach for him to offer comfort. He was in shock. How could his sweet Gwyddia be so cold? How could he be so stupid as to have believed her?

~Flashback, arriving at Gwyddia's home~

"Gwyddia! You're back!" A lanky young man ran to Gwyddia's pony, lifting her off and twirling her around. "My love, you've returned!"

Gwyddia laughed and hugged the man, kissing his nose. "Oh Mim! I've missed you so much!"

Elros leaned over to Rosalyn. "Who's he?"

Rosalyn was glaring at the couple furiously. "Mim was Gwyddia's fiancée, but she swore they had broken up! When did they get back together?"

Elros turned back to Mim, shocked. Fiancee!? But . . . what about him?

~Forward several hours~

Elros pressed the cup to the servant's door leading into Gwyddia's room and listened through it. Inside, Rosalyn and Gwyddia were talking about Mim.

"Isn't he just amazing? Daddy says I can have a summer wedding. Just imagine, Rosalyn! I can be wed surrounded by flowers! Fresh flowers! My gown will of course be stunning, the best ever seen. Maybe the elves could make it! Didn't you just _love_ their styles and designs?"

"Well, yes, but what about Elros?"

"What about him?"

"I thought you loved him, Gwyddia! He thought you loved him!"

"Elros is Daddy's elven ambassador, isn't he? I was just flirting with him! He's fun to be with, yes, and I know he won't begrudge me my happiness. I'm glad he came back here with us. Minas Anor would have been so stuffy compared to beautiful Rivendell, don't you think? Elros is a way of keeping a bit of that elven charm with me wherever I go!"

"Gwyddia, elves can die of a broken heart!"  
"So? If Elros goes off and dies, then Elrond can come. Elrond _and_ Thranduil! Oh Rosy, just imagine the fun they'd be! They'd love it here!"

Elros couldn't stand to hear anymore. He fled, choking back a choked cry. How could Gwyddia have done this to him?

~End flashback~

Rosalyn found Elros in the garden several hours later. The rain had stopped, but he hadn't moved. He was staring off into space, a dazed, vacant expression in his eyes. Rosalyn sighed and knelt beside him, ignoring the mud under her skirt. "Elros?" She shook his shoulder gently. "Elros?"

Elros blinked and looked at her. His dark eyes were full of pain and betrayal. "Why, Rosy? Why did she . . ."

Rosalyn hugged Elros, rocking him as he sobbed into her shoulder. "Oh Elros, please don't die! Gwyddia's not worth your life! You deserve so much better then her! Please don't die!"

"I can't," Elros whispered. "You need to be immortal to die of a broken heart."

Rosalyn gasped, pulling Elros away from her. "What do you mean by that!? You're not immortal!? But I thought all elves . . ."

"I'm a half-elf, Rosy," Elros muttered, unable to meat her eyes. "I can choose to be mortal or immortal."

"And you chose mortality," Rosalyn stated.

"I didn't want to stay young as she grew old and died."

"Can you take it back?"

Elros laughed harshly. "Take it back? I had to call to the Valar themselves to give it away! Do you honestly think they'll let me take it back?"

Rosalyn hugged Elros again. "I'm so sorry, Elros. I should have told you about Mim. I really thought they'd finally broken up for good though. I thought Gwyddia honestly loved you!"

Elros let Rosalyn hold him, wishing for all the world that it was Elrond or Gil-galad who was there instead, trying to encourage him and lift his spirits. _This is what you get for messing with the Valar_, he thought glumly. _I should have known it wouldn't work out._

Several years later

"_I don't know, Rosy . . . I don't think I could . . ._"

"_Oh come on, Elros! Don't tell me you honestly think Elrond still hates you!_"

"_Elves live forever, Rosy. Elves can afford to hold grudges for centuries._"

Rosalyn shook her head fiercely. "_Elros, Elrond is your brother! I saw how strong the bond between you was! He's not going to throw that away by hating you for the rest of your life!_"

Elros bit his lip and looked behind him. "_It's not too late to turn back. I could just send another envoy to Gil-galad . . ._"

"_You'll do no such thing_." Rosalyn planted her hands on her hips and glared at Elros. "_For three years now you and Elrond have been ignoring each other. Someone has to have the balls to step forward and apologize._"

"_But why me?_" Elros whined, worrying his lip.

"_Because you're the oldest and the one who started all of this. Now leave your lip alone._"

Rosalyn had helped Elros get over Gwyddia and introduced him to the world of men over the past few years. With every passing day the two grew closer together. After learning what Elros had done for Gwyddia, Rosalyn had returned to her lady and laid out the facts. Gwyddia thought it was very sweet that Elros made such a great sacrifice for her, but also that it was a very stupid thing to do and he should have known better then to trust her. Rosalyn, furious, had packed up and left. She refused to be a lady-in-waiting for such a spoiled brat. However, after leaving, Rosalyn had no where to go. Elros found her sitting in the city, fuming at herself for being so stupid as to leave without making arrangements first. He offered to share his rooms with her. Although reluctant to return to Gwyddia's home, where Elros lived, Rosalyn had no other options, so she accepted.

Now the two were headed back to the Last Homely House. Keladron had permitted Elros to take a much-deserved vacation, but it was Rosalyn's idea to return. She believed that if any true progress was going to be made with Elros, he first had to patch things up with Elrond. From what she knew of Elrond, that wasn't going to be easy, but it was worth a try.

No guards stepped from the trees to meet them as they passed into the borders of Rivendell. They obviously recognized Elros and permitted him and his guest to pass without any delay. Rosalyn swore she saw elven-bright eyes peering out at them and could almost catch snippets of whispered conversation. They may not be stopped, but guards were watching them, probably ensuring their safety.

As Rivendell came into view, the voice of a flute rose over the falls. Drawing even closer, they heard a grief-laden voice singing.

_"I had a dream - of the wide open prairie   
I had a dream - of the pale morning sky   
I had a dream - that we flew on golden wings   
And we were the same - just the same - you and I   
Follow your heart - little child of the west wind   
Follow the voice - that's calling you home   
Follow your dreams - but always, remember me   
I am your brother - under the sun   
  
We are like birds of a feather   
We are two hearts joined together   
We will be forever as one   
My brother under the sun   
  
Wherever you hear - the wind in the canyon   
Wherever you see - the buffalo run   
Wherever you go - I'll be there beside you   
Because you are my brother - my brother under the sun._"

Rosalyn recognized the voice at the same time Elros did. She turned to him with a smile. "_It seems like, in your case, Elrond gets over his grudges quickly. He misses you. Badly. But he wants you to be happy too._"

"_He couldn't have picked a better song for this time,_" Elros murmured, leaping off of his horse. "_I'll be back, why don't you go up to the House?_"

"_I'll be waiting!_" Rosalyn laughed. "_I'll tell Gilly you've come home._"

"_Yes_," Elros whispered. "_Home._"

As an added birthday treat . . . I FINALLY FINISHED _INTERLUDE_! It's up at Infinity Base. Try this, pub46.ezboard.com/binfinitybase. Scroll down until you reach the forum SpiderFanatic. Click. Enter. _Interlude_ should be on top. Click. Enter. Read. Review if you want to. Membership is free, but you don't have to be a member to read. If you can't get to it, drop me a line somehow and I'll email it to you, if you give me your email address.

Maybe I should consider Library of Moria.

Oh, I almost forgot. There is a huge, ASTRONOMICAL mistake in the timeline. I'm sorry. I never meant for that to happen. Please forgive me? I'm making this an AU, to explain that mistake.

~sighs~ And I wanted it to be real ME timeline too. Darn it.

~Crawler

THE SONG IS NOT MINE!  I almost forgot that too.  It's by Bryan Adams, and it's from _Spirit, Stallion of the __Cimarron_.


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